The Fox and the Hound (MF)

Holly is just restarting her retirement from a life of white collar crime when an old friend finds his way back to her. Peyton Shepherd, AKA The Reaper, is the bad guys’ number one retrieval expert when they are looking for someone, and right now they’re looking for Holly.

She usually doesn’t worry about these guys because she can con her way out of pretty much anything but Peyton has apprehended her before. This time he is a little more motivated to bring her in because the last time she left him handcuffed naked to a headboard, borrowed his identity, and stole his favorite car. Holly didn’t think a year was long enough for him to forgive and forget but if he did finish the job, she knew it wasn’t a meeting she’d walk away from.

Excerpt

found Peyton sitting at the small desk. He curled his finger at me and I made my way across the carpet, wearing the bathrobe provided with the room.

When I stopped directly in front of him, he was staring up at me.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I said those things to you.”

“I know you might not think very highly of me, Peyton, but…”

“I didn’t like the fact that you…were with Marcus,” he finished. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It wasn’t fair.”

Why did he even care that I had been with Marcus?

“If it makes you feel any better, I screwed that one up, royally,” I said honestly.

“You didn’t screw it up. You were just trying to protect him. He’s a nice guy. He’s not like us.”

I shrugged and looked away, but immediately felt his hand snake its way between the folds of the robe and come to rest on the bare skin of my side. I looked down at him, but when I didn’t move away, he pulled me closer so that I was standing between his knees. He tugged gently on the robe and it fell onto the floor with a whispering of fabric across skin. He seemed to be memorizing every inch of me, and just that was the sexiest thing I’d ever watched a man do. He urged me forward again, bringing his face even with my breast before nipping me gently, his eyes rolling up to meet mine, as if asking permission to continue.

I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair. I lowered my mouth down to his and he immediately stood up, carrying me with him to the bed. Still clothed, he lowered himself between my legs and, from the feel of things, he enjoyed being there, very much.

A twinge of guilt plucked at my subconscious and I pushed him back gently. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” After all, he had a damsel in distress to consider.

“You’re right,” he answered, pulling his shirt off and lowering himself back down until we were pressed warm skin to warm skin. He bit my earlobe and I completely forgot why I was supposed to be stopping him. He curled an arm around my waist and pulled me tighter against him with a happy growl and more kisses. In truth, I didn’t have the will power to stop him. After the daily regret of leaving my needs unmet the last time, I didn’t want to stop him again.

My breath caught in my throat when he rolled me over. He placed tickling kisses from the back of my neck down the length of my back, following the feminine curve of my spine. He got to my ass and bit me hard enough to send a shock through my entire body. He growled out his satisfaction and trailed one of his hands up between my thighs, tickling his fingers over the sensitive skin there for a moment before easing me onto my back again.

He stood over me, looking both dangerous and completely captivated by me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been looked at by a man like this before. He slowly removed his clothes, taking his sweet time and driving me nuts.

I whimpered as he removed his boxer briefs and circled his hand around his swollen shaft. He smiled at me before lowering himself onto the bed, his body covering my own. “What’s your hurry?” he teased, rubbing his nose along the length of my jaw. “I know you’re a thief, baby, but I have to teach you the difference between instant gratification and real satisfaction.”